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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 7148
Category:
other
Posted: November 1st. 2004 2:36:15 PM
Views: 874 |
November Rain
by Marty
Age Group: Adult
November Rain
Martin McConnell
11-01-04
I walked into the building, and though the sky was grey there was no rain. The class took time, but left me dry, with no thought or glimpse that outside was rain. I walked the steps and braved the hall, on my way out into the rain. The door opened and raindrops fell, upon my head from the northern well. I stopped to look, but all I saw, was fleeting feet and umbrellas strung open, with the quivering weak shaking below them, trying so hard to keep dry in a downpour of blessings from the heavens. Some quivered, some ran, some hid their heads beneath the sand. The buildings offered, as it would seem, a place of refuge for them to wait until they were safe from the rain.
Why the fear? Why the pain? Why does everyone hate the rain? It's drops so pure, each one offering a hint of coolness on this warm November day. My mother has blessed me by giving me this rain, but everyone I see only runs away. They hide from it.
The character of these mortal bodies amuses me slightly, as they try so hard, but unsuccessfully, to keep dry. Let it be then that I walk alone as the day turns rather quickly from hot to cold. My cigarettes keep soaking and won't be finished as I take step after step.
But Lord and Lady, I call to thee. Is there only me? Others I do not see. Am I the only one who cares. The only one who dares? To see the beauty of this day, as I walk the cold November rain? This is a test, as now I know. I know how to find the one that would compliment me so perfectly. The one with which I could spend the rest of my days.
Let me find just one more soul out there, that without refrain, dares to brave November rain.
Author's Notes: People tend to define poetry in terms of verses and stanza's, and though I have not looked at too much of the poetry on this site, I know that this will be first seen as an essay or some type of random thought put to paper. But poetry to me is beautiful wordplay, and being able to capture the essence of something with a pen or a keyboard.
Today I saw something beautiful at school that absolutely everyone else around me completely missed. It was raining in November, but it was warm. I felt at ease and completely comfortable, but everyone around me scurried here and their with their little multicolored umbrellas. I felt like putting the moment into beautiful wordplay, and this seemed like the best outlet for such a thing, as people here are more likely to appriciate it.
As I walked to my car, both the air and my heart grew a little colder. Just wondering if somebody would appear that I could share the moment with. They didn't.
Author's Location: Lafayette, Louisiana
Author's Profile: To learn more about Marty - Click HERE
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